


Boxers or Briefs?

by Surreal



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-03-15
Updated: 2001-03-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 15:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11338323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Surreal/pseuds/Surreal
Summary: Such a hard choice to make.





	Boxers or Briefs?

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Boxers or Briefs? by Surreal

This is completely random, it just came to me a while ago. Yet another of my hormone-inspired rant fics. Hope you enjoy!

Boxers or Briefs?  
by Surreal  
Feedback:   
Rating: NC/17 for m/m sex  
Pairing: Langly/Byers, Langly POV  
Archive: LGM Mailing list, Unusual Suspects, Basement  
Disclaimer: Not mine, Surfer God's.  
Summary: Such a hard choice to make.

* * *

I roll over and grunt a little as I wake up. Hate mornings.

A little mumbling sound escapes me and I reach across the bed, finding only cool sheets and not the warm, familiar flesh I'm expecting. Shit. Looks like John already left.

Bastard didn't even give me a good morning kiss. Or a goodbye kiss. That's two he owes me. I'll have to remember to collect when he gets his ass back here.

His ass. Mmm.

Damn it, concentrate. I roll over onto my back again, absently reaching under the blanket to scratch my belly. Mind wanders...so does my hand I realize when I feel my fingers wandering down to my crotch. Hmmm, I'm naked. Whatda ya know.

Oh, yeah... I grin stupidly as I remember *why* I'm in this state. Flashes of last night come back to me and I absently touch myself, already half-hard when I recall what John did to me last night.

Damn. Where the hell did he go? Insensitive prick, leaving me here to entertain myself while he does what? Goes out for coffee? Sigh.

Well, I won't give him the satisfaction. Actually, I would be giving *myself* the satisfaction, but that's not the point. I'm mad at him for no reason and I'm quite happy to lay here and pout.

Okay, maybe not. I'm really hungry, I realize. Guess I should go find some breakfast, try not to burn the place down.

I stagger out of our bed, tripping when the sheet tangles around my big, clumsy feet. Manage to make it to the dresser without further incident, yank open the underwear drawer. No point getting dressed, since Frohike's out of town this weekend and John--well, he's not here, but he wouldn't care anyway.

Don't need my glasses to tell which side is mine and which is his. Mine are all black, his are all white. I snort at this; you can tell how different we are just by looking at our underwear, and I still wonder how the hell I got into a relationship with this guy. I mean, Jesus, all of his boxers are blindingly white, folded neatly and I wouldn't be surprised if he irons them. Never caught him doing it, but I wouldn't put it past him to sneak down to the laundry room in the middle of the night to iron his undies just so I wouldn't find out and make fun of him.

I reach into the drawer for a pair of my briefs, and feel the stiff, cold fabric of his against the back of my hand. I shudder. No, I *won't* get turned on just by touching his underwear, his *clean* underwear, even. Even if it does smell like him, just a little...the fabric familiar to my touch as I remember all the times I felt him in these...through this cloth.

Ah, shit. I glance around self-consciously, though I know I'm alone. I know he'll never find out...

Before I know it, I'm pulling a pair of his boxers out, shaking them to unfold the creased fabric. Bending down to slip them on. Pull them on.

Oh, god, they feel like him. I know that's stupid, but I close my eyes, my hand absently rubbing over my hip and I can feel him, though I know it's me. My hands move on their own accord, one coming up to brace myself against the dresser. The other reaching to slide over the cloth hugging my ass. I feel my cock twitch, waking up and taking interest.

It feels like him, like when I'm naked and he's still wearing them, pinning me to the bed and rubbing against me. The rough but not painful feeling of them over my hard, too-sensitive flesh.

My other hand strokes my now painfully hard erection through the fabric, a little pathetic moan coming from deep in my throat as I rub myself. A little gasp and my hand slips into the flap, skin on skin and it's too warm, the dark, flushed organ in my hand heavy, burning against my palm.

I shudder a little, my knees feel weak as I can see it, feel it so clearly. John touching me like this, his breath against my lips as he whispers to me while slowly, torturously making love to me.

So hard, lost in my mind as I swear I can feel him there, his tongue tracing my jaw, finding that little spot under my ear that makes me feel so loved...

All of this and I don't hear the door open, don't notice I'm no longer alone until he makes his own little whimpering sound. I open my eyes, see John watching me masturbate in his underwear. Strangely, I don't feel embarrassed. I know I should, getting caught like this but just knowing that it's him, and seeing it in his face. He is so turned on by me, his face flushed and his mouth open just a little. I meet his eyes and he blinks rapidly, and...oh, god, he licks his lips just so and we stand there in still silence.

The next instant and he's there, kissing me with a desperation I feel all the way to my toes and I whimper weakly into his mouth, tasting him, the warmth of his tongue slipping easily into my mouth. My arms wrap around his neck and his around my waist, pulling me into him and my...oh, god he's as hard as I am and I instinctively thrust my hips against him.

He gives a deep, guttural groan and breaks the kiss, his lips hungrily sliding across my jaw, leaving a wet trail to my ear and just like I knew, he finds the spot under my ear, laving it with his tongue. My knees finally give and I start to slide to the floor but his holds me, gently lowering me as we both go down.

"John..." I moan as I catch a sharp breath. He looks at me, face flushed with arousal and eyes bright, but dark with need. "Please..." is all I can manage but he knows what I'm saying.

"Yes," he sighs, kissing the tip of my nose briefly and leaning his forehead against mine as I make quick work of his jacket and tie, his shirt following. Our groins are still pressing together tightly and I work my hand down between us to slip into his pants, taking his throbbing cock into my hand, the heavy weight settling naturally into my palm as I stroke him slowly, long, confident strokes meant to bring him quickly to my level of arousal.

He grunts something incoherent against my neck, hot breaths touch my skin as he pants, moans, licks his lips and thrusts into my hand. His own hands sliding down my back, over my--his boxers, firmly gripping my ass and then under the cloth. His touch burns my skin, his fingers sliding down my spine and into the crease of my ass, touching me where only he's allowed to.

"God John...please, fuck me..." I fumble with his pants, desperate and too close to the edge.

"I intend to," he smiles, helping me and we shift, grunt, until he's naked and we're both laying on the floor. He lays on top of me, grinding his naked, dripping erection against the...shit! I'm still in his boxers. The feeling is unreal, the cloth between us is wet, slick with pre-cum and sweat.

I reach down to work out of them but he stops me, grabbing my wrists and holding me there under him on the floor. "But first... wanna explain why you're in my underwear?" he asks casually, still making little rocking motions and driving me insane.

"I--I, oh god...please, I..." Okay, so I'm not at my most coherent. How can I be? I'm nearly naked, being slowly tortured by an absolutely fucking gorgeous man on the floor of our bedroom and he wants me to *talk*?? "Just...fuck! Please!"

"Uh-uh. Not until I get an answer." Bastard!!

"I--I was...I mean...." Shit, what *was* I doing? "I just wanted... shit! You were gone, and I just...they reminded me of you and..."

"My underwear turns you on?" he smirks incredulously. I'm gonna kill him, I swear. I can't move my arms, but I can still thrust my hips up against him. He gasps, closing his eyes for a second.

"Yes, it does! Now please..." I realize I'm whining but I'm too far gone to care. I just want him inside me, fucking me, NOW!

He grins at me, that incredible 'gonna fuck Ringo' grin that makes my heart stop and I know I can't take much more of this. Cold, hard floor or not, no lube, I don't care anymore!

He lets my arms go and the boxers are gone in an instant, thought I don't know who took them off me. He gives me a quick, hard, breath-stealing kiss before working his way down my body. His hands go under my thighs, lifting me up a little and they slide under my ass.

He looks down at me, the question in his eye. I shake my head. "Don't need it, just you...please, pleasejustdoit."

A little nod and he lowers his head again. I feel his lips on the base of my cock and my head rolls back against the floor, groaning as he,insists on stretching this out. I understand why, he doesn't want to hurt me and I love him for it, but I just wish he'd get *ON* with it!!

His tongue swipes over my entrance over and over, dipping inside just a little then he follows with his fingers, stretching me.

"OH! Oh--oh, yeah!" I'm making a lot of noise but I don't care. He's got a fucking talented mouth and he uses it on me so well. About a year later he finally decides I'm ready despite my prodding him to hurry the *fuck* up and he slides up my body again.

Have I mentioned he's the best kisser in the fucking world? Well, he is and he's giving me his all right now. My head swims and I lose myself in his mouth, tasting myself on his tongue and I lose touch with the rest of my body.

That is his intention because by the time he's done kissing me, I realized he's already buried himself deep inside me. No pain, just incredible, tight, hot fullness that I need so much. He sighs against my neck as he gives me time to adjust. "Feel so good..." I hear him mumble between sucking kisses.

"Yeah," is all I manage to say because he starts to thrust into me then. He holds me tight against him, I wrap my legs around his waist and cling to him as he slowly, too slowly, makes love to me.

I can't believe just a short while ago, I was masturbating in his boxers. The thought makes me giggle suddenly and he looks down at me, a weird look crossing his face before he laughs a little too. I think he knows why I'm giggling.

I lift my head, bury my face against his neck and shudder as he starts fucking me for real, short, hard thrusts that we both need. He smells sexy, this rich mixture of sweat, arousal, sex, and *him* that was so faint on the boxers but I find intoxicating now.

His lips brush against my ear, his breath coming in sharp pants, the same rhythm as he cock pumping into my ass and I'm so close, going to lose it fast.

He feels me tighten around him, his hand slipping between us and grasping my cock, his hand moving in time with his thrusts and oh--yeah, we're so close, almost there...

I can hear myself making sounds that would be embarrassing at any other time but now it's just perfect, the sounds John is making are so erotic I feel like I'm gonna explode.

He freezes for a second, his face scrunching up like it always does when he comes and he thrusts into me hard, his sharp cock hitting my prostate with such force it's all I can do not to scream. I feel him coming, warm jets of wetness hitting the core of my being and it's all I need to send me over the edge.

I pant his name hard, throwing my head back and exploding into his hand, sticky wetness coating our stomachs as I come so hard, I feel dizzy and high and I think I pass out for a few seconds as my body continues to jerk, the last little spurts releasing from me.

My body trembles hard, but I'm too weak to move. I'm laying here, limp with John draped over me. He's panting hard too, the tremors from his orgasm still shaking his body and we simply cling to each other and ride it out forever.

After what feels like a lifetime, John finally raises his head and looks at me. His eyes are half-closed, mouth hanging open, cheeks red and hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. He's fucking beautiful.

"So...does this mean you're going switch to boxers?" he mumbles, brushing his lips against mine but I can feel his smile.

"Only if their yours," I respond, kissing him.

We both groan as he slips out of me, but neither of us has the energy to move yet. We stay there on the floor, our bodies wrapped around each other and we drift to sleep.

*******

End.

19:22 03/04/01


End file.
